


Table

by Boborc



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, listen it’s just one of those days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 05:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13334769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boborc/pseuds/Boborc
Summary: Jesse meets Hanzo Shimada and immediately decides how he wants to get better acquainted with the man.





	Table

He was strong, dangerous. McCree could tell at first glance that this man was not to be trifled with. He carried himself proudly, walking with the confidence of some ancient king. His eyes were sharp. They pierced into McCree’s heart like an arrow. A fitting look for an archer. With every step the man took, his jacket moved, strained against the muscles underneath, and damn were they some fine muscles. The man was built. Had to be to wield the bow he was carrying in one hand. The thing was as tall as the man, and the man was short by no means. 

By the time the man had walked down the carrier and stopped in front of him, McCree had made up his mind. 

“Brother!” Genji cried out. He ran over and pulled his brother into a tight hug. The man looked surprised for a split second before he returned it just as fiercely. 

The two separated after a long, sweet moment and turned to face those there to greet them. “Brother,” Genji said, pulling the man forward, “I would like you to meet my friends Fareeha Amari and Jesse McCree. Jesse, Fareeha, this is my brother Hanzo.”

Hanzo bowed. “It is an honor to meet you.” 

Jesse reached up and tipped his hat saying, “Howdy,” just as Fareeha extended a hand and said, “Hello there.”

Hanzo raised back up, slowly. He took Fareeha’s hand in a firm handshake, then began to discuss something with her. McCree stopped listening, instead focusing on Hanzo’s face. Goddamn, the man must be an angel. Had to be. No human could be that handsome. His features were so defined yet so soft. They looked as if someone had sculpted his face from marble. His eyes were a deep brown sea that McCree could get lost in. His hair was a lovely black and just the perfect length to—

“What!” Hanzo snapped. McCree jumped and leaned back from the man— how did he get that close?— as Hanzo stared him down, challenging him to explain his rude behavior. “Have you nothing better to do? No, you obviously don’t!” 

Genji fidgeted uncomfortably and Fareeha tried to hide a laugh. McCree coughed, trying to cover up his surprise, and mumbled, “Sorry, didn’t realize I was doing that.”

Hanzo let out a loud huff and turned to stomp off, calling over his shoulder, “Ms. Amari, we will speak later. Genji, come. I want to meet this mentor of yours.” 

After giving his friends an excited “thumbs-up” Genji trotted along after his brother. 

“Damn, Cowboy,” Fareeha muttered, giving McCree a playful jab in the side, “What’s gotten into you?” She turned, watching the two brothers wander towards the building, and McCree followed suit. 

Turning to watch them leave, McCree found himself in the same position as just a moment before: admiring Hanzo as he strutted away from him, completely oblivious to the world around him. Those pants pulled at just the right angle that McCree could see the lovely, lovely outline of Hanzo’s ass. Did he do this on purpose? An outfit that showed off his— ahem— assets like that had to be intentional. Especially if he was looking for men who were keen on those “assets”. God, McCree hoped he was looking for men. I want him to fuck me over a table, McCree thought. 

“What?!” Fareeha yelped. 

McCree glanced to his side. “What?”

Fareeha stared at him, looking mortified and slightly offended. “Don’t “What” me! I don’t want to know that!”

“Did I,” McCree started, realization sinking in about what he may have just admitted to his sister, “Did I say that aloud?”

“I don’t know Cowboy,” Fareeha hissed, leaning in close, “Do you or do you not have a table kink?”

“Oh god,” McCree groaned. He pulled his hat down over his face just as he started turning red. 

Fareeha let out a hearty laugh and slapped him on the back a few times. “You never know! He might just be into that.” 

McCree lifted his hat up from his face. “Really? Should I—“

“No,” Fareeha cut him off. “Whatever you were going to say, do not ever, ever, say it to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I might do a second chapter of this if I can think of a way to connect the scene I want to do with this.


End file.
